Merry Dancers
by xbloodlustangelx
Summary: A/N: Written for Rosalie'sRevenge, Four Seasons Challenge- A lonely and depressed Draco sees far too much of himself in the Season of Winter to enjoy it any more. Can The Boy Who Lived, be the one to change his mind.


A/N: Written for Rosalie'sRevenge, Four Seasons Challenge

The Challenge: To write a fanfic based around the four seasons. In each season one character's opinion about that season must be changed by the other.

This Installments Season: Winter

This Installments Pairing: Draco Malfoy / Harry Potter

Enjoy!

Merry Dancers

White snowflakes fell almost silently to the ground, but if one listened extremely hard and long, waited for the right moment when the howling wind died, the ragged sound of their own breath and pounding of their heart calmed, they could hear the slight whisper as the flakes touched ground and blanketed the dark dry earth.

The view of snow falling and covering all that dead earth was serene and pure and completely at odds with everything Draco was feeling. Winter had once meant, Christmas presents, time off of school, snowball fights, warm butter beer by a fire and all of those other innocuous events that children held so dear.

Now it was just a culmination of the death of his surroundings. Winter was frigid and austere, and no longer filled him with warm memories. No now it was simply a mirror of his very being. A symbol of his life.

He'd once been the envy of all his friends. Nothing was out of his reach. Anything he wanted he bought it. He belonged to one of the only pure blood families left. He was rich and powerful and his peer's wanted to know him and wanted to be him.

Now he was nothing, a sore on the hide of the community, a leper among the strong and healthy. His friends had moved on and the rest of the school didn't deign to acknowledge his presence, and when they would condescend to recognize his existence, it was only to sneer or insult him in some manner.

Why was he punishing himself, because surely that's what this was? Potter had kept him and his family from Azkaban, but he'd felt like he needed the punishment, so he'd come back to finish his education and suffer the slings and arrows of misfortune, bear the cross that was surely his to bear, or maybe it was to show everyone that the year he'd spent grueling over the task given to him by the dark lord, the task that brought him to the very edge of his sanity and back, had changed him, and for the better.

When he'd been unable to perform his task he was done with it all. With the war, with working for the dark lord, with trying to live up to the idea of a man his father had forced upon his shoulders, and with his horrible obsession with the Boy-who-lived. In that final year before the war, he'd come to think of Potter just like most of the wizarding world did. Harry Potter had become his symbol of hope. His only way to escape the clutches of the Dark Lord alive. It was why when he, Weasley, and Granger had been dragged to his home, and his face had been so distorted Potter was absolutely unrecognizable. Except for his eyes, Draco had spent far too many years staring across the great hall, and despising those eyes, to not be able to notice them.

Plus the fact that Weasley and Granger would have never left his side had also helped. Draco couldn't find it in himself to out him; he'd played dumb and unsure. Surely if he wasn't a hundred percent positive they couldn't take the boy to the Dark Lord, that would be suicidal, and not being sure would hopefully give him enough time to figure out a way for them to escape, but true to his ingenuity, Potter figured out his own way.

Then of course later when he, Crabbe and Goyle had cornered Potter in the Room of Requirement, the "No Don't Kill Him!" hadn't just been because the Dark Lord had forbidden them to kill him, a major part of it was that if Harry Potter died, all hope of a better life died with him.

A heavy sigh left his lips as he settled his feet up on the bolder that was also his seat. He stared out over the view of the lake, as the flakes fell into the murkiness and disappeared, yet another reminder he hated. Watching those pure crystalline creations succumb to the darkness, destroyed by it.

The scattering of stones brought his eyes to the source and speak of the devil, the messy raven haired appeared along the side of the boulder, and Draco wondered if he stayed still and quite if the boy wouldn't notice he was there tucked into the small alcove he'd picked for himself.

He watched Potter kick along the stones, eyes trained to the ground. Draco waited for the inevitable sound of Weasley and Granger trotting along behind him, but after a few moments' he knew it was safe to surmise that Potter was indeed alone. Potter bent and his nimble fingers secured one of the rocks before he righted himself, and Draco couldn't help but remember those fingers as they had gripped his in the bathroom just a few weeks before, and thrust his own wand into his palm.

A wand he had been sure no longer existed. He could remember that moment as he was granted that small piece of himself he'd been sad he'd lost. His mood had been dark, and there came Potter to make it all better, at least for a little while. The same had gone from their short conversation they'd had two days latter, when Draco had taken the only seat left in the library, the one opposite from Potter. He'd offered an answer to a homework question and some small talk had been sparked off, he'd found out about Potter and the Weaslette, but little else came out of their conversation. He'd actually felt rather light and dare he say happy for a few days after that.

When he'd been paired with the Weaslette and had somehow forged a shaky friendship with her a week later that had done little to improve his mood. It had helped but not as much as talking with Potter, and surely not as much as getting his wand back but now he was back in the same mood wasn't he? But there was no wand for Potter to return, and no chance that the boy would want to, let alone could cheer him up once more.

Potter walked to the very edge of the water, and in what was probably a well practiced move, sent the stone soaring, and Draco watched as it skipped across the top of the lake six times before finally sinking, a feat that he knew was difficult and rare, which was why the surprised grunt passed his lips without him even thinking of it. Potter turned suddenly, fingers itching towards his pocket. A pocket Draco would bet a million galleons that contained his wand. When Potter's eyes fell upon him, they were harsh and guarded, but as he registered exactly who was behind him, to Draco's surprise, he relaxed.

"Impressive." Draco offered up into the slightly awkward silence.

"Thanks." Potter responded his hand lifting to the back of his neck his fingers giving a rub of the muscles. "What are you doing out here? Alone?" Potter asked and Draco gave a shrug.

"Just checking out the scenery, and I don't know if you've noticed but I don't really have much in the way of friends anymore so alone is kind of the only option for me." Draco said bitterly feeling that cold demeanor coming back. Merlin he was at war with himself wasn't he. He was desperate for a friendly ear that much was true, as horrible as they might have been Crabbe and Goyle had been his friends, and confidantes of sorts. Now he had no one, and with his goal to prove he was turning over a new leaf he'd just sort of opened up to Potter, but deep down he just couldn't let the boy see him as weak. He never could, and apparently that was not a habit he was going to break that soon. Lucky for him Potter seemed to take his icy demeanor in stride; he turned to take in the scenery.

"It is rather nice. Clean and pure."

"Hardly." Draco sneered. "It's bleak as bloody hell, everything's dead." Potter turned to look at him and gave him that same piercing look he'd given him in the bathroom, like he saw right through him.

"Why do you always do that?" Potter asked bluntly.

"Do what?" Draco asked eyebrows furrowing.

"This whole everything is beneath you and you're too good for everyone thing. I was just making simple small talk, trying to be nice since you just admitted you don't really have any friends, but you had to go and shit on it." He said, his tone was stern but it lacked any anger, like it would have just a little over a year ago, and his words hit home. Draco sighed, his shoulder's hunching as if Harry's words had deflated some of his defenses.

"I don't know. A habit I guess. It's not like we're bosom buddies Potter, we spent the better part of our adolescence hating each other, we were vile enemies, and this being on the same side and acting amicable towards one another is new. I guess, I'm just not used to it." He said with a shrug of his shoulders. Potter moved towards the boulder and gestured towards the spot next to him, to which Draco nodded his head, and Potter took the seat next to him.

"You know I'm not used to us being friendly either." Potter said softly.

"Yeah but you're so much better at the simple friendly small talk than I am." Draco said and he could see Potter turn to stare at him from the corner of his eye. He resisted the urge to turn and look at him at first but when he could tell that Potter hadn't turned to look away his curiosity got the better of him. He turned to see a fairly shocked look on Potters face. "What?" He said curtly and watched as Potter shook his head.

"Sorry, you just openly admitted that I'm better at something, willingly, it's not something I ever expected out of you. That's all." He said and Draco looked away.

Why he had said that? Surely he knew it, but he knew that Potter was better at a lot of things, like being a Seeker for instance, but he'd rather gargle razor blades than openly admit it. He merely shrugged his shoulders, not sure what he should say.

"Well I don't think I'm better at it, I've just had a lot more practice at it, being nice when I don't like someone, is something I've had to do since I was a child." Potter offered up and Draco felt a rather sharp sting at that last comment, but he would be damned if he let Potter see it. "Not that I don't like you… I mean we have a rather colorful past, but I can see you are changing. Yeah I'm rambling, I just don't want you to think that I lump you in to that category of people, only to illustrate that I've had more practice at it that's all." Potter continued and as quick as that sting appeared, it was wiped away. Draco only shrugged.

"It's fine." Draco said softly and they both turned to stare out at the lake, sitting in silence as the sky began to grow darker. It was awkward but in a way that Draco had a feeling would lessen over time. Like if they spent more time like this, there might not be any awkward feelings at all.

"So do you really hate winter?" Potter asked suddenly the question sort of startling Draco out of his thoughts.

"Yes, I used to like it when I was a child, but lately… I just can't seem to find the joy in it anymore." He said and shrugged once more, Potter nodded and they both resumed their simply gazing upon the scenery, and for some reason Draco felt the odd compulsion to elaborate. Maybe it was the need to actually talk to some one that drove him but whatever it was he continued. "It's just everything is dead or dying, and here comes all, this coldness to suck away what ever life is left and burry it all away. I used to find it beautiful, how all this pure snow would make everything bright and cover all that darkness, but now… I dunno it just seems to be the final nail in the coffin." He shrugged yet again. "I don't know why I just told you all that."

"Cause you needed to talk to someone, but I understand where you're coming from. How life can somehow steal the joy out of things, how you can't keep your pure and innocent views from your childhood and the scary and empty feeling that can cause." Potter said softly and damn it if that wasn't exactly what he was feeling. Every single word hit home, and regardless of the fact that he and Potter had been mortal enemies and complete opposite in every way, they shared the same feelings and fears. They understood each other in a way no one else ever could, not his family or his friends. His mortal enemy knew him better because he had felt the same thing, walked in the same shoes. Irony was a bitch. "Are you doing anything in the next hour?" He asked suddenly and Draco shook his head. "Would you mind sticking around here with me then, there's something I'm waiting to see, and I'm alone and I don't know, I kind of think you'll like it too."

"What is it?" Draco asked, and he watched as Potter's lips cracked into a wide grin, a grin he'd only seen when the boy was around his friends.

"It's a surprise." He said before shifting back so that he could rest his back against the other boulders and stretch his legs out. Draco followed his lead. The motions brought them closer due to the small space so that their shoulders touched.

"So where are the…. Granger and Weasley." He said having to pause, saying the Weasel and the Mudblood were so habit he'd almost let them slip.

"That's not what you were originally going to say was it?" Potter questioned and Draco sighed.

"I'm sorry, I just, it's a hard habit to break, there's no malice behind it honestly. I've just been calling them that for almost eight years, to change it all in a few months, it's just hard."

"It's ok. It means a lot that you stopped before actually saying it." Potter responded. "They're actually enjoying the same thing we are, they asked me to come but I thought they should have some alone time. Plus they're up on the Astronomy Tower, and I haven't been able to go up there since…" He said and paused and Draco didn't need to hear the rest to know what he was going to say. "We should still be able to get a great view from here anyway."

"A great view of what?" Draco couldn't help but ask, his tone a little harsh, but he wasn't big on surprises.

"You'll see." He said with a slight smirk and a mixture of a grunt and growl passed Draco's lips as he rested his head back against the boulder, to which Potter lightly chuckled.

"It is coming soon, then its pitch black already." He said while extracting his wand and casting a lumos. Harry's hand then reached out and put his hand over his, a movement that made Draco unconsciously flinch. Touch was not something he was used to. Slytherin's and Pure Bloods didn't touch often, unless for a simple handshake or affection from a family member, which both of his parents, love them as he might, were rather frigid people.

"No, if you keep that on we'll miss it." He said and Draco's wand grew dim, and Harry pulled his hand away, unaware how much that simple touch had rattled the blonde sitting next to him. He tucked his wand back into his coat pocket and sighed, wondering what on earth Potter could be keeping from him, and as the boy's verdant eyes lifted to the sky and widened in awe, Draco found his own eyes shifting away from the boy's profile and looking skyward, and suddenly he knew what the boy had been waiting for.

The sight was nothing short of amazing. The sky appeared as if it had been set on fire and that fire had been treated with floo powder. The green was radiant as it chased it's self across the sky, and then suddenly out of nowhere a pink haze joined, running erratically with the green lights on it's tail. Then a spot of yellow burst off, sprinting between the two before disappearing and then deciding to appear again and again. It was a festival of lights, and astonishing to behold.

"Amazing isn't it." Draco heard Potter's voice ring out next to him and he was only able to tear his eyes away from the sight for a second, just enough time to catch the boy's eye and nod his head. He heard the slight chuckle from the boy but couldn't respond. "It's the Aurora Borealis, also called the Northern Lights. Has something to do with magnetic storms and violent currents in outer space, but whatever the cause it's simply amazing. Generally they can't be seen down this far, but every few decades or so, we get lucky. This is the first I've ever been able to see, and it seems to be a good one. But it only happens in winter."

He said and Draco felt the boy turn to look at him, so he dragged his eyes away, and was shocked to see a rather concerned look on Potter's face, and surprisingly that was more amazing to behold than the beauty in the sky. Never did he think Potter would look at him with concern and worry. "So now maybe winter has something beautiful for you again, beautiful and pure. This… is a spontaneous and rare occurrence in nature that has nothing to do with dying. If anything it's reminder of the spark of life. It's… hope."

Potter shrugged and looked back up at the sky, obviously a little embarrassed over what he'd just said and done for Draco. Unsure of how it would be taken and if he'd crossed a line, but it was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. When he was upset his family and friends would buy him something to get his mind off of what ever vexed him… Potter had come along and simply fixed the problem helped him view things a different way and he cared enough to want to do that.

Draco felt tightness in his chest and throat and felt his eyes begin to sting. He turned his head away and looked back up at the sky. Swallowing and blinking frequently so that he could stop the tears that wanted to spring forth. No way was he going to ruin this surprising and beautiful moment with tears, and as close as he may now feel to the raven haired besides him, he still wasn't sure enough that the fragile friendship they were building was enough to survive him getting hysterical. He cleared his throat as softly as possible so that his voice wouldn't be thick with emotion. "Thanks." He whispered so softly he wondered if Potter even heard it, but as he listed slightly to the side and bumped his shoulder a little roughly into Draco's.

"Don't mention it." The boy said and Draco didn't say anything else. He just lifted his eyes to the sky, and his mind was at ease, for the first time in years, he was truly at ease. He was so thankful, thankful in such a way that words wouldn't be able to express. He'd been given his love of winter and his hope back, and it was all because of Potter, his former sworn enemy. The world certainly worked in mysterious ways.


End file.
